If you want to know how competitive you are, just play a round of white elephant at the next Christmas party.
You know the game. Everyone brings a wrapped gift. Numbers are drawn, and the first player selects a gift and opens it. The next player can either steal that gift or open a new one. This continues down the line of players. In a polite game, most people choose to open a new gift. But if there's a competitive spirit, gifts are stolen and re-stolen!
In theory, I love this game. And I always have visions of being a ruthless player. Nothing is going to stand in my way of getting the gift I want! But as the game starts, I grow more timid. I don't want to ruffle any feathers. So when my turn comes around, I inevitably choose a wrapped gift, no matter how much I secretly want to steal that giant Hershey bar...
In the end, I want to keep the peace.
But is this the kind of peace Isaiah had in mind with his final title of the coming Messiah?
For a child is born to us,
a son is given to us.
The government will rest on his shoulders.
And he will be called:
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
His government and its peace
will never end.
He will rule with fairness and justice from the throne of his ancestor David
for all eternity.
The passionate commitment of the Lord of Heaven's Armies
will make this happen! (9:6-7)
Christmas is nearly here, and we've reached the fourth title of Isaiah's prophesy: Prince of Peace. But what kind of peace is Jesus ushering in?
If I'm being honest, I don't think it's the same kind of peace I am seeking at a white elephant gift exchange. I merely want to avoid conflict. I don't want anyone to view me as selfish. In the end, I just want everyone to get along. And that is fine, I guess. But it's a far cry from the kind of peace Jesus brings us.
The Hebrew word for peace is one of my favorite words in the Bible—"shalom." It expresses a deep kind of peace. The peace that gives you wholeness in every area of life.
If you've been a long-time reader of my work, you may remember my favorite definition of sin. Sin is anything we do that breaks the peace we have with God, others, or ourselves. Broken shalom leads to broken relationships and feelings of restlessness.
I can only imagine the true shalom Adam and Eve felt in the Garden of Eden. They were at total peace with God and each other.
This is the kind of peace I long for, especially right now.
I want to be vulnerable for a moment. I haven't commented too much on the October 7th Hamas attack on Israel. Partly because (I'm embarrassed to admit) there was a lot I did not know about the history of the situation. I knew there was conflict between Israel and Palestine, but I was ignorant about many of the details. So I've spent the past two months reading, listening, and learning about it, all while feeling heavyhearted about the current situation.
I'm still no expert on the situation. But I know what Hamas terrorists did to innocent Israelis was evil and horrific. There is no way to justify what happened on October 7th. The accounts of what Hamas did are stomach-churning, but I made myself read them. More often than not, I found myself shaking with rage. I was relieved when some of the hostages were released, but I mourn for those still captured. I mourn for the terror they are still experiencing.
I also mourn for the innocent Palestinians who have had their lives upended as a result of the war. I mourn for the loss of life. I mourn for the constant fear they live in. I mourn for moms and dads who have lost their children. And I mourn for children who have experienced the kind of violence I've only watched on TV from the comfort of my couch. When the Israeli hostages were released, my relief extended to the Palestinian people. For a brief moment, they got a break from the violence.
Like most of us, I want peace in the Middle East.
But even as I type those words, I know how cliche they sound. I know how empty they ring.
Am I really that naive?
Peace sounds like a nice idea, but this is the real world. And in the real world, violence calls for violence, right?
A couple of weeks ago, the pastor at my church talked about how God is both imminent and transcendent.
God is near to us. He walks with us in our trials and suffering. The same God who appeared to Moses in a burning bush is with us at this very moment.
But this God who is near also transcends our understanding. His ways are higher than our ways. When Moses asked God who he was, God said, "I Am." This name was God's way of saying that he defines himself. He's in a category of his own.
When I think of Jesus as the Prince of Peace, it is this transcendent quality that gives me hope. I can't imagine a world free of violence. But he can. I don't have the creativity to know how to love my enemies. But he does. He is full of ideas!
Throughout this series, I've been contrasting the titles Isaiah gives to Jesus with the titles I would prefer. So far, we have...
Problem-Solver instead of Wonderful Counselor.
Personal Genie instead of Mighty God.
Vacationing Uncle instead of Everlasting Father.
So what about Prince of Peace? On the surface, I love that Jesus came as the Prince of Peace. But when I think back to the white elephant gift exchange, I realize it's not really what I want. No, what I want is Jesus the Conflict Eraser.
I want Jesus to snap his fingers and erase all the conflicts in this world. My personal conflicts. The global conflicts. I want him to make it all go away.
But that is not the true shalom the Prince of Peace offers. The peace he brings is an active one. It's the difference between peacekeeping and peacemaking.
Peacekeeping means keeping quiet during a conflict while secretly stewing in anger.
Peacemaking means getting involved and actively working towards peace, even when it costs us something.
This is why Jesus calls us to turn the other cheek and go the extra mile. At first glance, these seem like weak, passive actions. But they are not. They are creative ways to show love to our enemies while at the same time affirming our own dignity.
And when it came to our greatest enemy—sin and death—the Prince of Peace defeated it in the most unimaginable way possible. As Isaiah also prophesied:
But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5).
Jesus was willingly crushed by sin. But in doing so, he crushed sin and brought us peace.
So, as we move into Christmas Eve this weekend, I want you to do something you might find odd. But please hear me out.
I want you to despair.
Yes, I want you to despair about all the ways broken shalom has disrupted this world. Feel the weight of it.
I want you to feel the way Henry Wadsworth Longfellow felt when he wrote the poem "Christmas Bells." He heard church bells on Christmas morning, but it left him feeling hollow:
And in despair I bowed my head
"There is no peace on Earth," I said
For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on Earth, good will to men
Bow your head in despair this Christmas.
But only for a moment.
And then listen for the bells again.
Then rang the bells more loud and deep
God is not dead, nor doth He sleep
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on Earth, good will to men
Listen for the bells, and remember that the Prince of Peace was born.
Let's remember and then follow the example of our Prince the best we can, however imperfectly it may be.
Let's think of the last argument we had and go make it right.
Let's bake our crotchety neighbor Christmas cookies.
Let's pray for Israelis, and Palestinians, and all people affected by war across the globe.
Let's forgive that person. You know who I'm talking about. I do, too.
Let's work to be active peacemakers even when it costs us something.
Because that is what the Prince of Peace did for all of us messy, broken people.
Questions of Ponder:
What does Jesus the Prince of Peace mean to you? How have you seen his peace in your life?
How does Jesus the Prince of Peace differ from Jesus the Conflict Eraser?
As Christmas approaches, how can you actively seek to be a peacemaker in your relationships, community, and world?
—
If you enjoyed this post, you can click here to subscribe to my free newsletter and receive more content like this.
Jesus Our Everlasting Father
A couple of weeks ago, Diana, Emmett, and I went to a Christmas tree lighting at a park. It was a big event featuring food trucks, live music, and big crowds. As we crossed a grassy area to see a giant Frosty The Snowman blowup balloon, a man jogged past me, shouting, "Elijah! Elijah!"
A few minutes later, the music stopped. The emcee on the outdoor stage made an announcement: a boy named Elijah was missing.
My heart went into my throat. I couldn't imagine the fear of losing a child at an event that is so crowded.
The emcee told Elijah to come up to the stage where his dad was waiting. The man I had seen earlier was now standing on the stage. He remained calm yet had a concerned look on his face. He silently scanned the crowd, searching for his boy.
In what seemed like an eternity later (but was only a few moments), Elijah ran to the stage and was united with his dad. The crowd cheered with relief.
As I think back on that story, I'm reminded of one of the names Isaiah gave to the coming Messiah:
For a child is born to us,
a son is given to us.
The government will rest on his shoulders.
And he will be called:
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
His government and its peace
will never end.
He will rule with fairness and justice from the throne of his ancestor David
for all eternity.
The passionate commitment of the Lord of Heaven's Armies
will make this happen! (9:6-7)
Everlasting Father might be my favorite name on Isaiah's list. There is something so comforting about it. But it can also be a little confusing to think of Jesus as our Father. After all, he's the Son!
Christians believe in one God. But we also believe this God exists in three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. They are distinct, yet are one. (And if that is hard for you to wrap your mind around, it's okay! There is a mystery to it, a paradox.)
But if Jesus is distinctly the Son, why does Isaiah's prophesy call him Everlasting Father?
As we explored in week one of this series, these four titles aren't meant to be "proper" names. They are descriptors of what this coming Savior will be like. And they would have meant something to Isaiah's original audience.
Last week, we saw how the name Mighty God brought hope to an oppressed people. In the same way, Everlasting Father brought comfort to those who were vulnerable.
In that ancient culture, being fatherless meant you lacked basic protection. It doesn't seem right, but that's how it was. In fact, God knew it wasn't right. That's why he created laws in the Old Testament to protect those who were fatherless. If a man died and left behind a family, a close relative would marry the widow and bring her and the children under his care. (We see a beautiful example of this in the book of Ruth.)
The same God who created this compassionate law was now coming into the world. Jesus reflects the Father's compassion for the lonely, the vulnerable, and the forgotten.
The word father brings up different emotions in different people. Some have wonderful feelings about their fathers, and it's easy to relate to Jesus in this way. But for others, not so much. At best, the relationship with their dad was complicated. And at worst, their dad was not around or even abusive. My heart breaks for anyone who has experienced that. It makes sense why father is the last word someone might want to use to describe Jesus.
This month, I've been reading a devotional called Heaven and Nature Sing: 25 Advent Reflections to Bring Joy to the World by Hannah Anderson. The author brings up a lot of eye-opening things I hadn't considered about the Christmas story.
In one reflection, she ponders what fatherhood teaches us about faithfulness:
[W]hen a woman conceives and gives birth, there is little question about who the mother is. But biology being what it is, a father must declare himself. A man must publicly take responsibility for a child and, in so doing, commit to love and provide for this new life. ... We call [God] Father because that is the closest language we have to describe what he has done by publicly taking responsibility for us, loving us, protecting us, and granting us a share in the divine inheritance. Unlike those who leave when they realize what it will cost them, our Father gives and gives and gives.
These words describe what Jesus, as Everlasting Father, did for us. If the word father carries negative connotations for you, I pray Jesus will redeem it. He is the one who never abandons us. He doesn't throw stones but shields us from them.
Jesus was not inconvenienced by us. He was not ashamed to associate with messy, broken people. He patiently showed us how to live. He taught us what it means to live in God's Kingdom as beloved children. He loved us unselfishly. And in the end, he endured tremendous suffering on the cross so that our sin would no longer have power over us.
Jesus' protection and care never ends. His love is everlasting. Not even death can sever us from it. This is the message Isaiah conveys when he calls the coming Messiah Everlasting Father.
Throughout this series, I've been doing something kind of fun. I have been contrasting these names from Isaiah with the names my messy, human nature prefers. (i.e., Practical Problem Solver instead of Wonderful Counselor; Personal Genie instead of Mighty God.)
Earlier, I said I find comfort in Jesus as our Everlasting Father. However, there are days when I would prefer Jesus our Vacationing Uncle. You know, the cool uncle who cruises into town for a week or two. We do some fun stuff together, and he buys me new toys. Then he leaves, and I'm free to do whatever I want with the stuff he gave me. It's a pretty comfortable relationship that doesn't ask too much of me.
If you think about it, this is the relationship the younger son wanted with his dad in Jesus' famous parable. He wanted his dad's money without the relationship. He wanted to be free from his father. And so his dad gives him his inheritance and lets him go. Love is always a choice.
But then the son falls on hard times. He blows all his money and is forced to take a job that defiles him. Finally, when he can't take the stench of pigs anymore, he decides to head back home with his head hung low.
The son didn't treat his dad as a true father. So now, the son doesn't expect the father to treat him as a true son. The best he could hope for is to be looked at as a hired worker.
But the son didn't realize his father never stopped waiting for him to come home. Just as Elijah's dad stood tall on that stage so Elijah knew where to go, this father kept watch on the road for his son.
So he returned home to his father. And while he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him. (Luke 15:20, NLT)
So, as we continue the Advent season, let's reflect on Jesus our Everlasting Father. He is not put off by our mess. He entered into it. He is not quick to disown us but is patient and kind. And he sacrificed everything to put us under his care.
And yes, an Everlasting Father will require more of us than a Vacationing Uncle. Any deep relationship does. It requires us to learn from him and discover what it means to be part of this Kingdom family. And over time, we begin to change. We become less concerned with the Father's stuff and more about becoming like him.
And yes, there are times we may run away. But the Father will always be there, waiting with open arms of compassion.
The late, great Rich Mullins put it best in his song Growing Young:
Well we are children no more, we have sinned and grown old
And our Father still waits and He watches down the road
To see the crying boys come running back to His arms
And be growing young
Questions of Ponder:
What does Jesus our Everlasting Father mean to you? How have you seen his compassion in your life?
How does Jesus our Everlasting Father differ from Jesus the Vacationing Uncle?
What emotions do you feel when you hear the word father? Knowing a little about what a father meant in the ancient world, how does Jesus fit into this name? What other insights can you glean from the father in Jesus' parable of the Prodigal Son?
—
If you enjoyed this post, you can click here to subscribe to my free newsletter and receive more content like this.
Jesus Our Mighty God
In 2009, a 47-year-old woman named Susan Boyle auditioned for Britain's Got Talent. As she took the stage, Simon Cowell gave the side-eye, thinking this would be another "so-bad-it's-good" audition. The audience snickered as well.
Then Susan sang.
The audience went wild, and Simon was left speechless. No one expected such a mighty voice to come out of this ordinary, unassuming woman.
We are in week 2 of our Advent series, looking at the names Isaiah gave to the Messiah he prophesied about:
For a child is born to us,
a son is given to us.
The government will rest on his shoulders.
And he will be called:
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
His government and its peace
will never end.
He will rule with fairness and justice from the throne of his ancestor David
for all eternity.
The passionate commitment of the Lord of Heaven's Armies
will make this happen! (9:6-7)
Today, we are considering what it means for Jesus to be our Mighty God.
The Christmas story is full of unexpected events. Just as Simon couldn't believe Susan Boyle had an amazing voice, it's hard to fathom a Mighty God wrapped in the flesh of a baby. As the song "Do You Hear What I Hear?" puts it:
A Child, a Child shivers in the cold
Let us bring him silver and gold.
How could this fragile little child be a Mighty God?
Still, the promise of a Mighty God would have been welcomed by Isaiah's original audience. As we saw last week, Israel was being brutalized (and would eventually be conquered) by the Assyrian nation.
And 800 years later, when this child was finally born, their situation hadn't improved much. They were back in their homeland but were now under Roman rule.
For people facing oppression, the promise of a Mighty God is a sweet one.
When we call Jesus Mighty God, we affirm he is fully divine, even in his frail human state. And this Mighty God cares about the weak and vulnerable. He cares when people use their might to oppress others. And he does not turn a blind eye or shrug his shoulders at evil.
This is good news!
And yet, too often, a Mighty God is not what I want. Not really.
Last week, I said Jesus the Practical Problem-Solver sounds more appealing than Jesus the Wonderful Counselor. And now I confess that even though a Mighty God sounds nice, I'd much prefer a Personal Genie.
Remember the movie Aladdin? Near the end, Jafar, the villain, takes possession of the magic lamp. He uses his wishes to destroy anything that gets in the way of what he wants. The Genie's mighty power became Jafar's mighty power. And the best part for Jafar? It didn't matter what the Genie thought. Like a bulldog on a leash, Genie had all the power, but he could only do what his master allowed him to do.
I think we sometimes treat Jesus this way.
Now look, I would never openly say Jesus is my Personal Genie. I would never even think of it that way consciously!
But if I'm not careful, I can begin to think Jesus and I are always on the same page about everything. Instead of praying to become more like Jesus, I make him more like me. He shakes his head at the same people I shake my head at. He gets annoyed at the same people I get annoyed at. And since Jesus is a Mighty God, I can unleash his power against anyone I want.
As the disciples saw Jesus' power, they also started to think this way.
One day, Jesus passed through a Samaritan village to get to Jerusalem. But the people who lived there didn't welcome him because Samaritans and Jews did not get along. So James and John come up with this idea:
When James and John saw this, they said to Jesus, "Lord, should we call down fire from heaven to burn them up?" (Luke 9:54, NLT)
"Um... No," replies Jesus.
It might sound outrageous, but this was a perfectly reasonable request to James and John. Jesus had mighty power. And the Samaritans were enemies. So why wouldn't we just use that power to zap them off the face of the earth? Besides, they started it!
And yes, I joke about this, but I also understand where the disciples were coming from. They were tired of being kicked around, and the Messiah had finally arrived. They saw his power and wanted him to use it to take back control. If I were them, I'd probably be expecting the same thing.
(And I'm sure that at some point during Christmas dinner, somebody will say something to give me the urge to call down fire from heaven...)
So what do we do when we feel tempted to turn Mighty God into Personal Genie?
We remember the way Jesus used his power and might. This man, who was fully God, went to battle with Death itself and defeated it.
But he did so in the most unexpected way possible. Instead of hanging on to his power, "rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness" (Philippians 2:7). He came as a humble child and walked among us messy, broken people. He showed us what Love looks like. He taught us that sacrifice is not weakness but strength.
And in the end, he gave his life for both his people and his enemies. For the powerful and the powerless. For those invited to the party and those not invited.
And he did it in a way that left the world as stunned as Simon was at Susan Boyle.
That is a Mighty God!
So, as we continue the Advent season, let's reflect on Jesus our Mighty God. We live in a broken world where heinous things happen. We need a God who is mighty enough to defeat evil.
But we also need to remember the way he chose to defeat it. It's probably not the way we would go about it if we had access to a Genie who gave us three wishes.
Even after Jesus defeated Death through suffering, his followers still had power on the brain:
So when the apostles were with Jesus, they kept asking him, "Lord, has the time come for you to free Israel and restore our kingdom?" He replied, "The Father alone has the authority to set those dates and times, and they are not for you to know. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you. And you will be my witnesses, telling people about me everywhere—in Jerusalem, throughout Judea, in Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." (Acts 1:6-8, NLT)
Jesus' answer was yes, they would receive power. But it was a kind of power they weren't expecting. It was the power of the Holy Spirit who gives us the strength to love as he did.
It's the power to go tell it on the mountain that this Mighty God is born.
Questions of Ponder:
What does Jesus our Mighty God mean to you? How have you seen his power in your life?
How does Jesus our Mighty God differ from Jesus the Personal Genie?
It's been said that if God has all the same opinions as you, you've probably created him in your own image! When are you most likely to "call down fire from heaven" (metaphorically, of course!)? In those moments, how can you ask the Holy Spirit to guide you to become more like Jesus?
—
Thank you for reading! If you'd like to support me as I continue writing, a donation through Ko-Fi would go a long way.
Jesus The Wonderful Counselor
I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Is your Christmas tree up yet?
(If not, don't worry... Neither is ours!)
As we enter the season of Advent—the time of year when we anticipate the coming of Jesus—I'd like to do a little series. Specifically, I want us to look at the names of Jesus found in the Old Testament book of Isaiah.
Isaiah was a prophet who lived about 800 years before Jesus. It was a bleak time for Israel. The Assyrian army was closing in on them, and Isaiah wasn't offering much hope to his people! If you read Isaiah 8, you get a sense of the total despair the people felt. It's so hopeless that when Isaiah has a son, God tells him, "Before this child is old enough to say 'Papa' or 'Mama,' the king of Assyria will carry away both the abundance of Damascus and the riches of Samaria" (8:4).
That's not the kind of thing you'd be eager to put on a birth announcement! My guess is Mr. & Mrs. Isaiah didn't get too many gifts at their baby shower...
But then, in the middle of all that gloom, Isaiah speaks this refreshing word of hope:
For a child is born to us,
a son is given to us.
The government will rest on his shoulders.
And he will be called:
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
His government and its peace
will never end.
He will rule with fairness and justice from the throne of his ancestor David
for all eternity.
The passionate commitment of the Lord of Heaven's Armies
will make this happen! (9:6-7)
A child would be born who would usher in a reign of peace. A helpless baby would be Israel's—and the world's—only hope.
Advent is about remembering the past and also anticipating the future. We reflect on Jesus' first arrival when he broke into this world in a smelly, lowly stable of all places. But we also await the day Jesus will return to usher in his beautiful kingdom. Like Isaiah's original audience, we desperately need a word of hope. We need to remember the child who came to save us from the terrible things we do to each other.
Isaiah gives this child four names. They are not really "proper names" but more like descriptions of his character. Over the next four weeks, we will briefly explore each name. This week, we'll start with Wonderful Counselor.
What does the word "wonderful" mean to you?
In Isaiah's context, the word means incomprehensible or extraordinary. It describes something so full of wonder that it boggles the mind!
We rarely use the word in that way. We typically use it as a synonym for good, great, or nice. Case in point: I started this email by saying I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving. You may have had a good Thanksgiving, maybe even a great one. But chances are, the turkey you gobbled down didn't leave you in such a state of wonder that it felt like your head would explode. (If it did, I want to come over to your house for Thanksgiving dinner next year!)
The wisdom that Jesus offers us is so wonderful it can be hard to wrap our minds around. We see this in the Bible when people would be amazed at the things he taught. He challenged his disciples to see the world in new ways and still challenges us to do the same today.
But while Jesus the Wonderful Counselor sounds, well, wonderful, it's not really what I want, if I'm honest. On most days, I want Jesus the Practical Problem-Solver.
I've gone to counselors on and off over the past 12 years of my life. It's good to have a trained professional by your side as you work through your issues. But a counselor's job isn't to give you simple answers to all your problems. It's to help you see what's lying underneath the surface.
Imagine if I went to a counselor and said, "My marriage is crumbling and my wife doesn't even like me anymore. Give me a list of things I can do right now to fix it!" The counselor could just rattle off a list of things like...
Buy her flowers.
Take her on more dates.
Listen more.
Do the dishes.
And sure, maybe doing those things might help a little. But checking things off a list won't lead to lasting change. It's like trying to slap a Band-Aid on a huge leak of a ship. We're still sinking!
Instead, a good counselor will slow down. She'll put my frantic question aside for a moment and invite me to dig deeper. What caused this marriage to start falling apart in the first place? It will be a slow, painful process. But if I engage with it, it has the potential to lead to lasting change.
This is what Jesus does for us on a much grander scale.
So many times in my life, I've wanted simple answers from Jesus. Just tell me what to do next! And sometimes, he does have a specific direction he wants me to go in. But most of the time, as I pray and read the Gospels, I sense he is more concerned with who I'm becoming along the way.
When people asked Jesus questions, he rarely gave straightforward answers. He would usually tell a story in response or throw a question back at them.
When a lawyer asked Jesus to give him clear boundaries about who his neighbor was, Jesus redefined the term.
When a group of Pharisees asked Jesus how they should deal with someone else's sin, Jesus forced them to look at their own.
They wanted simple answers. But Jesus challenged them to see things from a different perspective.
This is mind-boggling counsel!
In John 6, Jesus feeds 5,000 people, and the crowd goes wild for him. They had a problem, and he solved it. He was Jesus the Practical Problem-Solver!
But then he started saying some strange things. He called himself the true bread of life and said anyone who ate this bread would live forever. This was less practical, and people started turning around and leaving. So Jesus looks at his twelve closest followers and asks if they want to leave too. And I love Peter's response:
"Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life. We believe, and we know you are the Holy One of God." (John 6:68-69, NLT)
Jesus' words boggled Peter's mind. We know that Peter misunderstood Jesus so many times. But at the end of the day, Peter wanted Jesus more than he wanted all the answers. He knew that the best place to be was by Jesus' side.
See, as much as we like the idea of Jesus the Practical Problem-Solver, there isn't much intimacy there. He can dole out wisdom from heaven and never get his hands dirty. But instead, Jesus chose to enter our mess and slog through it with us. (As Isaiah also prophesied, later echoed in Mathew, "The virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel (which means 'God is with us') [7:14].)
As we begin the Advent season, let's reflect on Jesus our Wonderful Counselor. We face so many questions in life, both personally and in the scope of the world's problems. And the world is quick to offer us easy solutions. Everyone has it all figured out.
But if you (like me!) don't have it all figured out—if you're swimming in uncertainty—it's okay. Let's slow down and spend time with Jesus. We are free to bring our questions to him. And he may invite us to put the questions aside for a moment so he can reveal something more wonderful than we imagined.
Questions of Ponder:
What does Jesus the Wonderful Counselor mean to you? Has any of Jesus' teachings left you with a boggled mind?
How does Jesus the Wonderful Counselor differ from Jesus the Practical Problem-Solver?
Are you facing any big decisions right now? Have you considered that Jesus may be less concerned about what you decide and more concerned about who you are becoming along the way? (Example: Which job you accept may be less important than how you conduct yourself when you start working there.)
The Alternative to "Just Not Worrying"
Devotional on Matthew 6:25-34
As we have already seen, Jesus gives some strange commands in the Sermon on the Mount. Turn the other cheek. Go the extra mile. Give in secret.
And now we come to one that is difficult to even wrap our minds around...
Do not worry!
"That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn't life more than food, and your body more than clothing? Look at the birds. They don't plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren't you far more valuable to him than they are? Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?" (v. 25-27)
Come on, Jesus! How is this even possible?!
Worry is so embedded into the fabric of everyday life.
And I don't know about you, but when I tell someone my problems, I get a little annoyed if they respond with, "Don't worry about it. It will all work out. Just trust God."
"That's easy for you to say," I think. "And I DO trust God... But it's still hard to not worry."
That's the thing about worries. We all have them. And it's easy to tell others not to worry because their worries are not ours. But when it comes to our worries, we're not so confident.
So I promise I won't tell you to just "not worry." Because I don't know what you're dealing with today. You may have very good things to worry about. I know I do.
Besides, it's hard to NOT do something. When someone quits drinking, they can't sit around all day focusing on not consuming alcohol. That would drive them nuts. Instead, they have to fill that void with something else.
As I read this passage yesterday in preparation, I had my own list of worries burdening me. And even though I've read this passage hundreds of times, I asked a question I've never asked before: What does Jesus tell us to do instead of worry?
I see two alternatives to worry that Jesus gives us.
First, he tells us to look and remember how God provides for his creation. Look at the birds of the air and how God feeds them. Look at the flowers of the field and how God clothes them. "And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?" (v. 30)
The problem with "just not worrying" is that we think the alternative is to sit around and pretend everything is okay. But Jesus knows there are things in this world to worry about. He even says, "Today's trouble is enough for today" (v. 34).
Jesus isn't glibly telling us that our worries don't matter. Instead, in a world full of worries, he's inviting us to focus our attention on the tenderness of God. Look at how he cares for birds and flowers. Let it be a reminder that God is good. He loves you.
We can also reflect on our lives to remember how God got us through hard times. When we feel stressed or worried, looking back on our own story can be helpful. God was there for me then, and even though it may be hard to see, I know he's there for me now.
The second way to fight against worry is to take an active role in God's kingdom:
"Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need." (v. 33)
Remember—the Sermon on the Mount is about God's kingdom breaking into this world. And as Jesus followers, we are called to show the world what this kingdom looks like.
When it comes to dealing with enemies, that means meeting violence with non-violence in imaginative ways.
When it comes to worrying, we also need to live differently. As Jesus says, "These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers, but your heavenly Father already knows all your needs" (v. 33).
Worry is a natural part of this world, just like revenge is. So, how do we flip the script? Not by passively "not worrying" but by actively playing a role in God's kingdom.
I will still wake up with a list of worries. But I focus on being the best father/husband/friend/stranger on the street I can be.
The more I focus on loving others as Jesus did, the less control worries have over me.
As we begin our day, here are some questions to ponder:
What worries are you waking up with today?
How does remembering God's care for creation remind you of his love for you?
Instead of trying to "not worry," what is one small thing you can do for others today to shift your focus?
If you have time, look up the song "You're Love is Strong" by Jon Foreman. Use that song to start off the day focused on God.
—
If you enjoyed this devotional, please take a moment to check out my Nobody Left Out series of devotionals. They were written to help ordinary people (like me!) grow in their relationship with Jesus.
Another way to show your support is by making a donation through Ko-Fi. Even a small donation goes a long way in keeping me writing! :)
Jesus' Guide to Prayer
Devotional on Matthew 6:7-15
Confession: I am not "great" at prayer. I use "great" in quotes because the whole point of prayer is to focus on God's greatness, not our own! But what I mean is we all have different ways of connecting with God.
I love studying the Bible (I think because God wired me to connect with stories). I also love talking about God with others. I feel a closeness to him then. But I've always struggled a bit with prayer. My mind starts to wander and fixate on my worries, to-do list, etc. It can be discouraging.
But that's why I love the Lord's Prayer so much.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus teaches us how to pray. He probably knew how much we struggle with it. He also knew how much humans love to complicate things! So, he begins by telling us not to babble on in prayer. We don't need a lot of words to connect with God.
Then, he shows us how to pray by praying. And I have always loved this prayer.
Let's take a brief look at it:
"'Our Father in heaven," (v. 9)
God is so different than other ancient deities. He doesn't dominate over humans. He's not easily angered. He's a good Father who wants his children to approach him.
One day, a bunch of kids ran over to Jesus, much to the disciples' dismay. They tried to shoo them away. But Jesus welcomed them.
God does the same for us.
"hallowed be your name," (v. 9)
"Hallowed" means to make holy. We want God's name to be honored, and we do that by how we live our lives.
"your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven." (v. 10)
Man, understanding this verse better has shifted my whole paradigm over the past few years. As Christians, our ultimate hope isn't to fly away to heaven one day. It's that heaven—God's kingdom—is coming down to earth! It's the place where God's will is done. It's the place where everything in the Sermon on the Mount gets lived out! And Jesus wants us to pray that we will begin that process now.
"Give us today our daily bread." (v. 11)
I've been reflecting on this one a lot this week. We ask God to meet our basic needs. And it's something we do daily. We rely on God one day at a time. That's so hard to do in our fast-paced culture.
"And forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors." (v. 12)
We ask for forgiveness, but we also ask for help forgiving others. It's interesting that Jesus knew we struggle with that. At the end of the prayer, Jesus explains that this is a big deal. He says, "But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins."
This doesn't mean we earn our forgiveness by forgiving others. It means that in God's kingdom, forgiveness is vital. It's how it operates. So, if we refuse to participate, we are closing ourselves off from forgiveness.
"And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from the evil one." (v. 13)
Jesus knows we will be tempted to stray like lost sheep. When we are, we pray for a way out of it. We pray to not believe the lies of Satan, who is the one who accuses us.
I am so grateful Jesus gave us this prayer.
But the question seems to be: Is this prayer simply a model, or is it meant to be prayed word for word?
As John Stott has said, we can use the prayer in both ways.
As a model, we can use it to get a closer look at the heart of God. We see what's important to him and his kingdom. And we can put the prayer in our own words to draw closer to him.
But when we don't have the words to say, we can also pray it as written. Reciting a prayer doesn't mean we are "babbling on" or being insincere. As long as we reflect on the words and understand their meaning, it can help us. I've found that praying it helps me focus more on God, and when I start to wander, it brings me back. Sometimes, I'll start by reciting it, then move on to saying the prayer in my own words.
God is a good Father who knows we pray imperfect prayers yet still welcomes us.
As we begin our day, here are some questions to ponder:
What struggles do you have with prayer?
As you read the Lord's Prayer, what do you learn about the heart of God and what's important to him?
Today, take some time to pray through this prayer. Use it as a model for your own words, or pray it as is, reflecting on their meaning.
—
Thank you so much for another week of daily devos! If you'd like to support me as I continue this endeavor, a donation through Ko-Fi would go a long way.
Shining Our Light in Secret
Devotional on Matthew 6:1-6
Has someone ever done a good deed for you in private?
Years ago, I was eating alone at a restaurant and saw a father sitting with his young son at a nearby table. They were whispering to each other and smiling. Then they paid their bill and left.
Shortly after they left, the waiter approached me and said my bill had been paid for. When I asked who paid it, he wouldn't tell me. But I had a sneaking suspicion about who it was.
In Matthew 6, Jesus continues his Sermon on The Mount with more upside-down ways of living:
"Watch out! Don't do your good deeds publicly, to be admired by others, for you will lose the reward from your Father in heaven. When you give to someone in need, don't do as the hypocrites do—blowing trumpets in the synagogues and streets to call attention to their acts of charity! I tell you the truth, they have received all the reward they will ever get. But when you give to someone in need, don't let your left hand know what your right hand is doing. Give your gifts in private, and your Father, who sees everything, will reward you." (v. 1-6)
Wait... When we do good deeds, we shouldn't toot our own horn and make a big deal about it? But what's the fun in that?!
As I've thought about this verse, I became genuinely curious about two things: Why does Jesus care that we do good deeds in private? And why is it so hard for us to do?
I think we need to answer the second question to get a clearer answer for the first.
We live in an anxiety-ridden world where we are constantly under the microscope. The latest self-help books may say, "You are enough," but I don't think the world really believes that message. We are judged by what we do, what we achieve, and how much we get done.
I think we are constantly seeking validation from others because we want to know we matter. We want to know that we have what it takes to survive in this world.
For me, my entire mood can shift if I read a review of my books. A positive review can put me on cloud 9. A negative review can send me into a tail-spin of self-doubt.
Living for the praise of others is exhausting. Jesus knows that. And I think that is part of the "why."
What if we saw Jesus' words as an invitation to inner peace?
Jesus knows that, as humans, we get so caught up in proving our worth to other humans. But our ultimate value comes from God. When we give in secret, we are reminded of that.
When we give in secret, our heavenly Father notices. We don't need affirmation or accolades from others. Each time we do a good deed in secret, we get the chance to rest in his love. We are not trying to earn his love or approval because we already have it. Our good deeds are simply an outpouring of his love for us.
Now, this doesn't mean we have to don a mask and cape and sneak around like the Hamburgler when we do good deeds! Earlier in the sermon, Jesus says, "In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father" (Matthew 5:16).
These seem like conflicting ideas, but they are connected.
As we go out in the world and do good, we don't have to draw attention to ourselves. But people will naturally notice our light shining. They will get a glimpse of God's kingdom.
When that father and son paid for my lunch, they didn't make a big deal about it. But I took notice.
They were shining their light in secret.
And when people do take notice, we can humbly point them to God.
And we can rest in his love. Because while we may never be "enough," he is.
As we begin our day, here are some questions to ponder:
When was the last time someone did a good deed for you? How did it make you feel?
When are you most tempted to impress others with your achievements? In those moments, how can you rest in God's love instead?
How can you be on the lookout to let your light shine in secret today?
—
If you enjoyed this devotional, please take a moment to check out my Nobody Left Out series of devotionals. They were written to help ordinary people (like me!) grow in their relationship with Jesus.
Another way to show your support is by making a donation through Ko-Fi. Even a small donation goes a long way in keeping me writing! :)
Fight, Flight, or The Kingdom Way
Devotional on Matthew 5:38-48
As I write these devotionals, I've used the two-year Daily Lectionary from the Book of Common Worship to help me choose the scriptures. Every day, there's a reading from both the Old and New Testament, and I pick the one I most want to write about.
Today's New Testament reading happens to be the exact scripture we discussed in church this past Sunday. It's something I've been pondering all week... And fair warning: It's still something I have a lot of questions about... And that's okay!
In this section of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus challenges his followers to not repay evil for evil. The pastor said that we sometimes look at these words and think, "Well, Jesus had some nice ideas, but they just don't work in the 'real world.'"
But he went on to explain that Jesus lived in a culture filled with violence. He wasn't naive to the real world. And he wasn't saying these things from an ivory tower, far removed from everyday life. He was in the mess with us. And he wanted us to live in a different way.
It's also easy to think Jesus was telling us to just be a punching bag. Let people slap you around and steal from you. But that isn't the case either.
Jesus was advocating for something so different that it's hard for us to even imagine it. And he gives specific examples related to his culture and time. Examples like:
"You have heard the law that says the punishment must match the injury: 'An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say, do not resist an evil person! If someone slaps you on the right cheek, offer the other cheek also." (v. 38-39)
In that culture, honor and shame were a big deal. If someone slapped you on the right cheek, it means they backhanded you. A huge display of disrespect! It was a sign that you were inferior to them. But if you turned the other cheek, it meant that the other person had to either:
1. backhand you with their left hand, which would bring shame on them because that hand was only used for, um... we'll say hygienic purposes... :) Or,
2. slap you with an open palm, which makes you their equal.
Another example:
If a soldier demands that you carry his gear for a mile, carry it two miles. (v. 41)
A Roman soldier could force you to carry their gear for a mile. As you can imagine, most people did this begrudgingly. It was humiliating, physically taxing, and inconvenient. But by going an extra mile, you are choosing to show love rather than being forced. You are taking power away from your oppressor.
In both cases, you are showing your enemy that you have dignity. Far from being a pacifist, you are very active in your response. It's just that you are choosing a non-violent way. A different way. A more imaginative way.
And within the larger context of the Sermon on the Mount, this makes sense. That sermon is about showing us what life in his kingdom looks like. It's an invitation to build his kingdom in this world using his upside-down methods. And when we do, we see that his kingdom is the true "real world."
When we get into a conflict, we're so used to the "Fight or Flight" options.
FIGHT: We match violence for violence, insult for insult. As my grandma taught her kids, "You don't start fights. But if someone hits you, you hit back!" It makes a certain kind of sense in this world.
FLIGHT: We avoid conflict or allow people to walk all over us. Maybe we even act passive-aggressively as a way to secretly win. Again, it's so easy to choose this path.
But what if there was a third option? The kingdom option.
In this option, we find creative ways to seek peace amid violence. It's an active kind of peace that brings dignity to all, including ourselves.
This kingdom option takes imagination. But I think that's what Jesus was doing in the Sermon on the Mount—giving us a spiritual imagination.
I'm still grappling with what that means.
Let's grapple together!
As we begin our day, here are some questions to ponder:
Take some time to read Matthew 5:38-48. What challenges you about it? What inspires you about it?
How is life in God's kingdom different from what the world expects?
If you get into a conflict today, how can you choose the "third option"—the kingdom way?
—
If you enjoyed this devotional, please take a moment to check out my Nobody Left Out series of devotionals. They were written to help ordinary people (like me!) grow in their relationship with Jesus.
Another way to show your support is by making a donation through Ko-Fi. Even a small donation goes a long way in keeping me writing! :)
But I Deserve This!
Devotional on 2 Kings 5:19-27
A few months after we were married, Diana and I had to buy a new car. So we went to a car dealership, and it was an experience we never forgot!
After roaming the lot for a while, we found a car we thought was a good fit for us and our budget. So we went inside with the salesman and did some paperwork. Then the manager said he would bring the car up for us to test drive.
When the car pulled up to us, something was strange. It wasn't the car we wanted to look at. It was a newer car. A nicer car. A more expensive car.
When we questioned the salesman about this, he tried to get us to test drive it.
"You deserve this car!" he said enthusiastically.
Deserve it?
I don't know about you, but anytime I've thought I "deserved" something, I've gotten into trouble!
Yesterday, we looked at the story of when the prophet Elisha healed a big-shot army commander named Naaman. Today, we are continuing the story.
After Naaman is healed of leprosy, he is overcome with gratitude. To show his appreciation, he wants to give gifts to Elisha. But Elisha refuses.
I think Elisha refuses because he wants to show Naaman that gifts from God can't be bought. Naaman was used to buying his way to the front of the line. But that's not how things work in God's kingdom. So Elisha sends Naaman home in peace.
And that's when things get interesting. Because Elisha has a servant named Gehazi. And Gehazi thinks Elisha is being a bit of a pushover. He should have taken Naaman's gifts!
Here's what happens:
But Gehazi, the servant of Elisha, the man of God, said to himself, "My master should not have let this Aramean get away without accepting any of his gifts. As surely as the Lord lives, I will chase after him and get something from him." So Gehazi set off after Naaman. When Naaman saw Gehazi running after him, he climbed down from his chariot and went to meet him. "Is everything all right?" Naaman asked. "Yes," Gehazi said, "but my master has sent me to tell you that two young prophets from the hill country of Ephraim have just arrived. He would like 75 pounds of silver and two sets of clothing to give to them.” (v. 20-22)
"We deserve this!" thought Gehazi. "And if Elisha is too naive to see that, then I'm going to do something about it!"
So Gehazi chases Naaman down and lies to him. It turns out, Gehazi says, that Elisha does want some money after all. Naaman is all too happy to oblige and gives Gehazi double what he asks for.
Then Gehazi goes home and hides the gifts in his house. He knows Elisha wouldn't be too happy about this...
I think we all have a little Gehazi in us, whispering that we deserve something. We've worked hard. We've paid our dues in life. Don't we deserve "this" (whatever "this" is?).
Maybe we do deserve it, at least by the world's standards. But the problem comes when we try to take what we deserve. It's easy to grow bitter and envious when we think we deserve something.
I know I've been there. It's so easy to think, "Hey, I've worked way harder than that guy! Why does he seem more happier/wealthier/successful than me?"
But the comparison trap is a dangerous game no one wins.
The story of Gehazi doesn't end too happily. Elisha knows what went down. He says these chilling words to Gehazi:
”Because you have done this, you and your descendants will suffer from Naaman's leprosy forever." When Gehazi left the room, he was covered with leprosy; his skin was white as snow. (v. 27)
Indeed, it would be easy to say that in the end, Gehazi DID get what he deserved. But I can't judge Gehazi for his sin. I have been in Gehazi's shoes many times.
Gehazi's punishment seems harsh, and it can make us uncomfortable. Whenever I run up against a Bible story like this, I try to lean into the tension and not resolve it too quickly. I sit in it for a moment and remember that I am no better than any of the characters in it. I need to remember Gehazi's story whenever I feel resentful or entitled. I need God's grace so much.
One thing I do know is that Gehazi's story wasn't over. We see him again in 2 Kings 8, telling the king of Israel about the great things Elisha has done. Some commentators point out that perhaps Gehazi was healed of his leprosy at this point. We can only speculate.
If he was healed, he probably knew he didn't deserve it.
And maybe that's when the whole thing finally clicked!
As we begin our day, here are some questions to ponder:
Why do you think Gehazi was upset that Elisha refused Naaman's gifts?
Have you ever thought you "deserved" something? How did it make you feel and act?
How can you let go of the things you "deserve" and trust God to provide for you today?
—
If you enjoyed this devotional, please take a moment to check out my Nobody Left Out series of devotionals. They were written to help ordinary people (like me!) grow in their relationship with Jesus.
Another way to show your support is to make a donation through Ko-Fi. Even a small donation goes a long way in keeping me writing! :)
All The Small Things
Devotional on 2 Kings 5:1-19
The prophets Elijah and Elisha are two of my favorite characters in the Old Testament. Elijah does some amazing things for God, all while battling depression and self-doubt. And Elisha... well... he's just a bit eccentric!
In 2 Kings 5, Naaman, a commander of the Aram army, comes down with a bad case of leprosy. Naaman's wife happens to own an Israelite girl who was taken captive during a raid. Instead of relishing in Naaman's misfortune—which would have been easy to do given her situation—she comes up with an idea. She says, "I wish my master would go to see the prophet in Samaria. He would heal him of his leprosy" (v. 3).
Naaman tells his king about this, and the king thinks it is worth a shot. So he sends Naaman down to Israel. When Naaman arrives, he goes to the king of Israel and gives him lavish gifts of gold, silver, and clothing. Basically, he was trying to grease the wheels. Naaman was a big shot and used to getting whatever he wanted. He also gives the king of Israel a letter from his own king that says, "With this letter I present my servant Naaman. I want you to heal him of his leprosy" (v. 6).
When the king of Israel reads this, he freaks out a bit. He thinks the king of Aram is playing games with him, trying to pick a fight. How is he supposed to heal this guy of leprosy?
But then Elisha gets word of all this and tells the king to calm down. Take a few deep breaths. Everything will be okay. He tells the king to send Naaman to him.
So Naaman goes to Elisha's house with his whole entourage of horses and chariots. He expects Elisha to roll out the red carpet for him and make a huge deal. But Elisha doesn't even greet him at the door!
But Elisha sent a messenger out to him with this message: “Go and wash yourself seven times in the Jordan River. Then your skin will be restored, and you will be healed of your leprosy.” ( v. 10)
What's up with this?! Doesn't Elisha know who this guy is?!
Naaman can't believe the disrespect Elisha has shown him. He expected Elisha to meet him at the door and wave a hand over him to heal him of the leprosy. Wouldn't that make more sense?
Besides, he says, the Jordan River is kinda gross. Why wouldn't Naaman tell him to wash in a better river?
Naaman was about to go home and forget the whole thing. But then, for the second time in this story, Naaman was saved by one of his servants.
But his officers tried to reason with him and said, "Sir, if the prophet had told you to do something very difficult, wouldn't you have done it? So you should certainly obey him when he says simply, 'Go and wash and be cured!'" So Naaman went down to the Jordan River and dipped himself seven times, as the man of God had instructed him. And his skin became as healthy as the skin of a young child, and he was healed! (v. 13-14)
Naaman almost let his pride get in the way of allowing himself to be healed. He thought what Elisha asked him to do was "beneath him."
I wonder how often we miss out on what God is doing because it doesn't seem "exciting enough."
I'm eager to obey God in doing the "big things" but not the "small things."
I'm willing to lay down my life for my wife and son. Most husbands and fathers would, no questions asked. But are we willing to lay down our lives in a thousand small ways each day?
Am I willing to help clean the house and spend time playing with my son in ordinary, mundane ways?
It's so easy to fall into the mindset of wanting to serve God in "big ways." That's not a bad desire to have. But like Naaman, our expectation of what that looks like may differ from God's. Naaman thought there were some things that were beneath him. Do we think that sometimes? I know I do!
We may have a desire to go off and change the world. And God may want us to start by greeting people at the door of church on Sunday.
I can promise you one thing: Doing the "small thing" will always make us better prepared if and when God calls us to something that, in our eyes, looks bigger.
As we begin our day, here are some questions to ponder:
Why do you think Naaman was so offended by Elisha's instructions to him?
When was a time you said yes to God even though it seemed like a small thing? How did it change you?
How can you be on the lookout for "all the small things" today?
And yes, for those who know, it's totally a Blink-182 reference.
—
If you enjoyed this devotional, please take a moment to check out my Nobody Left Out series of devotionals. They were written to help ordinary people (like me!) grow in their relationship with Jesus.
Another way to show your support is to make a donation through Ko-Fi. Even a small donation goes a long way in keeping me writing! :)